


Friend & Soldier

by HelenofTroy



Category: The White Queen (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 17:56:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9503300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelenofTroy/pseuds/HelenofTroy
Summary: There are ruins near York, a population forgotten by men where there is only forest, full of ruins dating back to the time of King Alfred the Great.The horse of Elizabeth of York gallops without rest. The princess is desolate. Richard, his dear uncle and lover, is dead. And with him all the hopes of being his wife, of turning England into a better place.All the Lizzie´s world  is about to change, her mother forces her to marry Henry Tudor. Her whole family expects that from her, but she does not love Henry Tudor, just Richard.





	

An unknown place near of York, 1485 

Elizabeth Of York got off her horse and headed for the old Catholic monastery, the one on the hill. With her arms folded, the velvet of her yellow winter dress danced in the wind as the princess stared at the horizon with tears in her eyes.

In the distance she saw the Tudor banners ahead. The red dragon appeared among the tall treetops. Dancing like her long dress. The yellow dress didn´t need even a coat on top for cover Elizabeth from the cold of that domed afternoon. 

Elizabeth had heard that morning about the end of the war and about the dear of her lover, Richard. 

\- The war is over, Elizabeth- The soft voice of Cecily made Lizzie feel better. His mother had sent his sister with her, to have if she made her react.

But the face of Lizzie, their dearest Lizzie only had showed to her sister tears. Cecily in silence had embraced his sister, and rocked her gently.

-This is impossible, Lizzie, he promised me that he would come back to me. He´s the love of my life-Lizzie was not responsible of all her words, her pain did not let her talk in an appropiate tone own of a princess. 

-Enough Elizabeth! Do not make me think that Margaret Beaufort is right! I hate see how you humiliate yourself, England and to your family with that behavior! How can you love that man who betrayed to your father? How can you love a man for who the sanctity of an oath made at the feet of an agonizing king means nothing? -cried her mother. Elizabeth still considered herself the queen, and in that tone she spoke to her eldest daughter.  
She saw in her the same mistakes of her own youth.

As she had given herself to Edward, so did her daughter with Richard. She had not given her body alone, but his soul, or part of it. Elizabeth Woodville knew the symptoms well. She hated his daughter's suffering. She had no soul when Edward was dead, but that would not happen to Lizzie, her beautiful little daughter, the only proud left for her after the desaparition of her boys. Her little boys. 

Lizzie saw how her mother joined both hands, and with powerlessness she tightened them until her veins became a white line.

-Forgive me, daughter. I don´t want see you suffering as i did, i just want save our family. I know your feelings, and i know i can not change them, and i never would do it despite i could. You are free for love, my beautiful daughter, Lizzie. But your duty is save your family now, and the life of your brothers if God let them live then. 

-Oh mother! I´m sorry, i´m so sorry-Lizzie Extended her hand to his mother, who merged with Cecily and Lizzie in a desperate embrace.  
All three cried, all three heard the Lizzie´s promise.  
-I will save this family, mother. I will marry with Henry Tudor, i promise-said Lizzie-if my brothers are alive, i will save them. 

But they all missed Edward, especially at dinners, as he entertained the little boys with stories of their war battles, exaggerating their triumphs, mixing reality with fantasy. He always beat giants, heard the sirens on the way home on the ship, or some ghost prowled his camp. Edward was a great storyteller. If he had not been king, his father would have been a storyteller.  
His brother Edward used to listen his stories in his father´s arms. 

And now, alone in the ruins of tha monastery in the forest Lizzie embracing her own body looking the infinity of the pink sky, she only felt lonely, the pain of knowing that she had had the sky, she had lived with her perfect family while such time, with her brothers, her grandmother, listening the Court´s songs, its dances, the fireworks when her mother had a new baby, the happy Christmas Eves sharing her coins with the people in the castle´s doors the Mass, the dressed, his father´s stories, her mother´s secret spells, her words in the magic world, and that friend of them always invisible called "Lorelei" that her mother said that was taking care of the news newborns, all the magic and all their parents love, that vision was unbroken in her mind then, and yet...but now she had nothing.  
His father, his brothers, Richard, were all gone. Everyone had left her alone and had been condemned to be the head of the family. All members of his family depended on the usurper Henry Tudor.  
How she hated him, God, how he hated him without knowing him. Lizzie imagined him, wearing her father's crown over her pale hair, smiling at her and looking at her like the whore all the Tudor claimed she was. Asking to himself if she was the right choice. 

She was Elizabeth Of York, while he was just a stupid upstart, a country gentleman with an illustrious name and a beautiful coat of arms who had killed to Richard, the love of his life. And now she would have to pass his test. 

What if Henry Tudor did not find her attractive or convenient? Would all her family be executed as surely as his brothers had been by them?  
Margueritte had insisted that Lizzie be the betrothed of Henry not Cecily or another of her sisters. 

And if Henry accepted her, she would never be queen by right, as she should be in the absence of her brothers, but queen consort. He would be his wife. She would bear his children. The executer of her brother´s children. Her children. 

Elizabeth knew there was no way out. The time had finally come.

She would meet with his love Richard, beyond this world, beyond those red clouds that peopled the afternoon, the ink that tarnished the letters between Margaret and her mother using her as a bargaining chip. Her family should save themselves, Margaret surely would marry Cecily with Henry instead of Lizzie when she was dead. For Cecily would be easier, because she did not know what the love was. She had said once, that Henry Tudor was attractive, and the guilty of Margaret in her brother´s death had been not proven, despite Lizzie would feel in her heart that they had been. Maybe Cecily would find in Henry Tudor that love that she had had next to Richard. Because for Lizzie Richard already was her true husband in this earth, not her uncle. To the God´s eyes. 

Elizabeth could not keep her promise to marry Henry. She felt she was not capable. Weeping, she turned to her horse with small steps. Her beautiful white mare looked at her sadly, she had not moved.

-Morning Star, my angel- Lizzie whispered into the mare's ear, tender as a sweet. In the meantime, she drew his father's sword from the sheath she wore in her saddle.

Lizzie then went to the place she had chosen, and sat down in the cool grass. He kissed his father's sword, and closed his eyes at the coldness of his blade next to his lips.  
The gold plating was engraved "Edward IV." The rose next to her lips was kissed too.

Suddenly a first dry noise, and then powerful made her mare scared. Morning Star laughed. She struggled to free himself from her bond, but it was in vain. Behind her, a soldier coming out of nowhere approached the mare.

-Quiet, beautiful, calm-he said, strocking her white skin with a tenderness impressive. Her fingers were long and slim, giving light steps, like a woman. He was a young man, more or less like Lizzie. His own grey horse was behind her mare. 

Lizzie silently blinked her eyes so full of tears that she could barely open them. That stranger came just now ...

-Are you here alone, my sweet one?-the soldier tied the mare more tightly, while touched softly the white hair of Morning Star-I will bind you for your master to find you. Look at your chair, have the rose of the York-tell me are you a spy sent against Henry Tudor? If so, hopefully all of them are so soft and beautiful.

-The horse is mine, soldier-said Lizzie since her distance. Was normal if he could not see her. She was covered by the branches of the great oak that covered the ruins, high on the mound.

-Oh, milady, sorry. I was not gonna to steal the horse, i was only...-the soldier, Shyly hid behind the mare, lowering his head even more. Lizzie got to her feet, curious.

It was incredible how God sent his messages. When she was about to die, God sent her that poor soldier, a partisan of the Tudor. He would be part of the dragon army, there was no doubt.  
What roads sometimes took Providence, so strange, so stupid almost.

Lizzie felt sorry for the man, she was just a pawn like her.

-You were gonna to take my horse with you if I had not appeared, weren´t you? -she asked, demanding, going down the slope.

-No, milady, i was only admiring the animal, i swear it -he said, showing his right hand. The man had beautiful curly hair, with red reflections on top a dark background. It was almost the only beautiful thing about him. His long & slender face barely had any appeal. But yes his body athletic rather than strong, hardened by long runs and combat. Like her father´s body. And his eyes were changing as he saw her appear, They opened slowly, until they were as open as his mouth.  
It was as if that young soldier was watching the appearance of Venus. He was dazzled by her, Lizzie knew very well that male reaction to a beautiful woman. The soldier's eyes were large, with long lashes. He had a childish face, almost with an innocent expression, she found it sweet.

-Oh, don´t be fool, it´s right -said Lizzie shaking his father's sword with disgust. She had the sould broken, she did not feel like wasting her time talking to that insignificant little man.

-Are you from the York´s house?-asked him  
-Yes-she answered, shortly. What did he have to lose? He had already lost everything.

-Who are you?-He asked, but she left him alone walking up.  
-A friend-she said as she walked up the hill. All desire for suicide seemed to have gone, just as she had come-and who are you? -She asked.

-A friend-said the soldier, sitting down beside her. 

-Oh you´re cunning!-said Lizzie-like all the Tudors allies i guess. 

-Do you hate them aren´t you?-asked the young man, offering to her a little rose, found in his camp, between one of his friends things, was a luck´s rose, as the tradition said. 

Lizzie smiled, taking the flower. Was almost broken, and was very small, but she took her and put that over her father´s sword. 

-No, i just hate my life-said Lizzie-i have lost the man who i loved in this war-she said, sadly. 

-Oh yes, the main of the men have lost all everything they have in this war. Parents without children, mothers without daughters, children without parents, brothers lost, is a tragedy. And I hate to have to fight. The rivers of blood never bring the dignity, only the human misery. If you had seen all that I have seen ...-the man looked his hand, feeling disgusting. 

-Why did you come here? -Lizzie wanted to know.  
-I needed to be alone. I´m coming back to home-he said 

-Have you got family? A wife is waiting for you maybe? -Lizzie took the flower and gave it to him back. He smiled and took the flower back. He was needing such good luck like this young woman, surely a noble woman for her velvet. 

The soldier´s face turned in red when she touched his hand. He was embarrased for her question. She was so beautiful...how clumpsy he was!!! 

-No, I am not married. Although my mother wants me to marry a young woman-he said, looking Lizzie almost scared, but at same time he felt such curiosity that he was being brazen, with so many questions-and are you married? 

-No, but...

-Your mother have an husband waiting for you? -he asked to her, showing another face. The Tudors allies face. He was being arrogant right now, too much sure of himself and proud of his alleged wisdom, as Lizzie thought, but he was having with her a kind behavior, much better than anyone in the last times, at last he was listening her. 

-Yes, in fact she does-said Lizzie. 

-Ah! I knew that, you are too much beautiful. Surely you will have a douzen of suitors for marrying you-the soldier said. His voice was soft and caressing, so childish. Nothing to do with Richard's hoarse, suggestive voice. No one was like Richard. Suddenly Lizzie felt the desire of telling all her story to this soldier, this "friend" like he said he was. He was only a cloud, an air passing, that never in her life she´d come back to see. For that she needed use him, if not only left for her her father´s sword, and the another life. 

\- I once loved a man. Desperately. Not my fiancé, but another before him. Someone whom I chose, someone who chose me. He was a man of my own family. No one could understand my love, nor my mother, nor my sisters. But I loved him no more than I saw him. His words, his voice, his manners, his dreams. He painted his dreams in the air, when he told me the great plans he would carry out, and then, as if an angel passed, he was silent. That was what i loved most about him, his silences. His mystery, his love for me. While everyone else made me feel small, he gave me life, honored me and distinguished me in front of everyone. I was never important to my parents as I was to him. My parents had my brothers, males. You know, men are more important. But she died in this war, she fought by the King Richard´s side, and today i received the news: he´s dead. And i´m so dead like he is. Because without him, my life does not have sense. And now i must marry with a man, an enemy from the opposite side, a man like you who was fighting under the Tudor flag. But this does not matter, i never will be of him. I am of my lost love. The man who i love. Because he´s my husband and i´ll be her wife in this life and in the next one. I was of him. We were married in secret, it was just us. I was of him in body and soul. I still have the ring stored somewhere. In our ceremony there was no priest, there was no music or flowers, but there was a bed, and our love-the soldier´s face was absorbed, touched by the story, admired by such a story, something he had not known from afar. The great passions were forbidden for that young man, who only knew the obligation, Lizzie knew it while watching it-And now they ask me to marry another, a noble Tudor. I promised to do it, but when I knew my husband was dead, it was as if my heart were being pulled out of my chest. I can not do it, my friend, I can not. I´m dead anyway. 

-No, you are not-said the soldier suddenly, softly, like everything he said. He placed his warm hands on the cold steel of Edward IV's sword. His voice was completely without passion-you loved your first man in your old life, now with the new king, Henry Tudor, a new life is starting, a new era, a new beginning he´s gonna to offer to everyone-he said, but Lizzie stoped him. 

-Oh you talk really like a good Tudor´s ally-she said, almost about to cry, her voice trembled of pain. 

-No, i don´t. I´m talking like a good friend for you, my friend. Henry Tudor like new king wants to be the bearer of not a single new order and government, but a new era, where England is united under his scepter, where everyone can choose the right way, so that everyone can love what is right, and may God love them too in peace. Henry Tudor will be a king of peace, where the former were kings of war. England will be one, where once there were many, a new family. One family. That's why you're not dead, maybe you were in your previous life. But now you must live because for you and your family a new life begins. Live it with your fiance. Maybe he won´t be so bad as you think. 

-Oh he´s worst, believe me, my friend-Lizzie said. The soldier was looking her long hair, even sometimes he looked the secret of her breaths. "Poor man, so time far from the real women" she thought in a moment. 

-Life is rarely fair. I do not have friends. I am of the nobility, my family has an illustrious surname, but nobody really loves me. Everyone uses me to win battles, and everyone gets rich, some even more than me. I'm not happy either. I have no brothers or sisters, i´m just an instrument of my mother´s ambition-he said, and his sadness was able of a poem. 

-Oh you sound like would sound your king, Henry Tudor-said Lizzie smiling a little. 

-Am i? Yes, i think he´d say something like that-the soldier tore off some grass and shrugged-He's a simple man. Simpler than people think. He just want the peace. 

-A good warrior would say that the peace is for the women & children-she said 

-Haha! Only a bad king would say that, in fact a king horrible!-the soldier raised his voice, and stroked his hair. 

Lizzie smiled too, while the sound of trumpets sounded closer-i think they´re calling you, soldier. 

-Oh no, please. i don´t want to be a soldier anymore, i just preffer to be...

-A friend-said Lizzie standing up and offering his hand to the soldier-but today you´re a soldier too. Be proud of it, everyone of us have our duties. I´m sorry if you have to marry with a woman you don´t love. 

-Like i´m sorry you have to marry with a man you seem hate. But you must find the happiness in the new peace coming, in your new life, remember this. If you have sisters, fight for them. In your darkest moments, think in them, as i´ll think in you, in my "friend". You see me like a soldier, but i see you like a friend, a good friend in my path, in my way as i found you. I wanted lonely for a while, in this path of war, but i found you, i found a friend. And i´m thankful to God for it. You have illuminated my fear-he said-now i understand how not everyone is gonna to hate me. 

-Even being a Tudor ally? -Lizzie asked to him seriously. While a moment both kept silent, looking at each other, as they shook each other's hands and Edward IV's sword fell to the ground for that, by the force of their hands. For a moment there was no Richard, or the betrothed of this soldier, whoever she was, neither Elizabeth Woodville, nor the crown, nor war, nor Henry Tudor. There were only two of them.

Lizzie looked up at him, he was much taller than she was. But he was gentle, humble, kind. She wished all men were like that. Lizzie drowned in the soldier's honeyed gaze, and he smiled a little in love with his friend.

-Precisely being a Tudor ally-he answered to her-thanks for it, my friend. She took with one hand his father´s sword, impressive by the soldier´s bold behavior. He yet was holding her another hand. "Was him stuck to her?" Lizzie felt herself like a stupid child thinking in that way. The love of her life was dead, and she was flirting with a boy from the oppositte side of that war in the forest? 

-Then come back with your king, soldier, and with the rest of his dragons, and search your own happiness-she said, releasing his hands, while the night was coming. 

-His dragons? -he asked her From afar, feeling as if he already missed the young lady York who sheathed his father's sword on the horse -i will take care of not burn my soul with their infernal fire. 

Lizzie did not hide the sad laugh that this gave her, while she spurred to Morning Star-Come Girl. Take me to home-Bye, my friend! 

-Goodbye, milady! My Friend...-he said quietly.

Behind him three guys sent for his mother reached him. 

-Your Majesty, it´s time Your Lady King Mother want see you in your after your spiritual retreat...

-Yes, yes, of course -said the soldier, looking how the blonde lady dissapeared in the forest, asking to himself if she was real. Henry Tudor then looked the hints left by the young´s horse on the floor. So she was real. Henry slammed his silver helmet hard, awakening from that vision. All a country was waiting for him. 

Lizzie came home early, and the stable boy was there waiting to keep his horse. Then she went up to his room through the secret door. She lay down on the bed, pulling his father's sword aside. That night she hardly slept, with her eyes open. But for the first time on that moonless night she did not think of Richard, but of his friend Tudor of the forest.  
She opened the small window, and the silence of the night was only mingled with the creaking of the grass, the croaking of the frogs, and the whistling of the crickets.


End file.
